


BTS - Suga and Jeong-sun break up

by Insfiringyou



Series: Headcanon Masterlist [37]
Category: K-pop, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Angst and Smut, Break Up, F/M, Gen, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insfiringyou/pseuds/Insfiringyou
Summary: Suga and his girlfriend, Jeong-sun, break up.This is part of our headcanon universe - set a month and a half after Suga proposes to Jeong-sun in Stranded and set one day after Suga’s part in the Phone sex scenarioWe can be found on tumblr here: https://insfiringyou.tumblr.com/post/181721410706/bts-complete-masterlist-links-to-ao3





	BTS - Suga and Jeong-sun break up

**PART ONE**

The sky had started to turn dark by the time the coach pulled into the station. Jeong-sun had managed to catch an hours sleep on the journey back from Busan to Seoul, but it had been frequently interrupted by little jolts as the bus hit pot holes in the road, making her head shudder against the window and waking her back up. The driver helped her take her luggage, a large green hold-all bag, from the rack above her head. It was heavy and made her shoulder ache as she left the vehicle and walked across the street to the line of bus stops. Checking the little information sheet on the stand, she saw she would only have to wait five minutes for the next bus which would take her back to her apartment. It would have only taken her twenty minutes to walk, but the narrow streets between the coach station and her building were not safe at night and she had forgotten to pack her her rape alarm with her. It had been her old friend, Yu-Jin’s idea that she carry it with her when she walked home alone. Jeong-sun smiled at the memory of her receiving it as a birthday gift two years before; it was bright pink, as though it were a fashion accessory instead of something to use to stop yourself from being brutally assaulted on your way home from work.

The bus pulled up and Jeong-sun got on, one shoulder drooping with the weight of the bag, and took a place towards the back. It was only a quarter full and nobody looked at her as she walked down the aisle. She watched the houses and streets drift by as the bus drove through the night, wondering whether she should stop at the convenience store between the bus stop to her apartment to pick up some snacks. She wasn’t sure how much food she had left in the cupboard and her stomach groaned uncomfortably. She had attempted to eat a tuna sandwich towards the beginning of the coach journey but could only manage a few bites as snippets of the conversation she had shared with Yoongi last night back at the hotel flashed through her mind. He had sounded so desperate on the phone...

The memory of Yoongi brought her back to the present and she cursed under her breath as she remembered agreeing to call him when she got off the coach. He had wanted to see her. Looking out of the window for landmarks, she gauged she was only two stops away from her apartment but if she stayed on the bus for another ten minutes, it would take her to the high street near Yoongi’s apartment. If she phoned him, she would be certain he would meet her on the high street to walk her back, but she didn’t want to inconvenience him. Besides, it was a cold night.

She arrived at his front door twenty minutes later and rang the doorbell. A chime echoed through the brick building and she waited for the door to open. He took a little longer than usual and she wondered whether she had interrupted him working. There was a jingling sound as his keys turned in the lock and he opened the door, narrowly at first, but opening up when he recognised the visitor.

“I didn’t realise you were back.” He said, sounding a little surprised. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain black T-shirt. His feet were bare against the wooden floor.

“I’m sorry, my phone ran out of battery.” The lie came out easily, disguising the fact she had forgotten to phone him. He stood aside to let her into the narrow hallway and closed the front door behind her. The apartment was warm and cosy, a comforting contrast to the cold air outside. It had been slightly warmer in Busan, down south.

“How was the conference?” He asked, his hand fumbling with the safety latch.

“Really long.” She turned around to face him. “I have a pamphlet if you want to read it.” He reply came out dry but without the usual warmth which would accompany such a deadpan statement. Yoongi though she sounded both tired and a little bored. He shook his head at her reply and reached for her shoulder, slipping the hold-all bag from her arm easily, despite its weight, and placing it on the floor.

Jeong-sun ran a hand through her long, black locks. Yoongi could see that her hair was visibly tangled at the ends from the long journey. She sighed as her fingers found themselves hooked around a particularly nasty knot. “Can I take a shower?” She asked.

Smiling, Yoongi took a step towards her and reached for her waist, pulling her gently in with both hands until their hips connected. “You don’t have to ask.” He said warmly, stroking her side. She was still against him, the dark circles under her eyes a little more obvious up close.

“I feel really gross.” She complained.

His grin widened. “You are really gross.” He joked as his hands caressed her waist through her fluffy sweater.

“I’d better get in the shower then.”

The coldness in her voice made him pull his arms back quickly, allowing her to pick up her bag and head to his spacious bedroom. He was sure that she knew he had been joking, but her reaction was unexpectedly steely. He followed her into the bedroom and watched as she placed the carry-on on top of the bed sheets and started to work through it, pulling out items of clothing.

He stood in the doorway, his hand touching the back of his neck a little anxiously. “Did I say something wrong?” He asked as she took out a hairbrush from the bottom of the bag.

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m just tired...” She rubbed her eyes for a moment before she started to undress, removing her sweater, tank top and jeans un-self-consciously before moving onto her plain underwear.

Yoongi took a few steps into the room. “Can I join you?” He asked. She had finished undressing and turned to him, meeting his gaze.

She shrugged. “It’s your apartment.”

He couldn’t help but frown at her answer, feeling a pang of anguish in his chest as he watched her walk into the little en-suite and turn on the light. She left the door open most of the way, but not exactly invitingly. Yoongi thought for a moment as he heard the sound of the shower turning on; water splashing the porcelain tiles. She had seemed distant from him the moment she turned up on his doorstep, perhaps even last night on the phone. It wasn’t as though he had never seen her tired and pissed off before, she had plenty of days like that coming home from work, but she was never usually cold to him. On the other hand, she had kept her word about coming to see him when she got back from Busan and she had definitely had a long couple of days. He undressed himself, placing the worn clothes in a hamper in the corner of the room and joined Jeong-sun in the bathroom.

She was standing by the sink, brushing her hair in the mirror. He stood behind her, unable to stop his eyes from roaming a little across her naked body. He had missed her.

“I’m just waiting for the water to heat up.” She explained, not turning around but meeting his gaze in the mirror. It was a force of habit Yoongi had come to recognise, that she would wait a few minutes for the water to heat up whenever she had a shower, being used to the old boiler in her own apartment. He didn’t correct her, just opened the shower door and placed his hand under the stream of water.

“It’s warm.” He said, holding out his hand for her. She took it and stepped into the shower, placing herself directly under the stream of water. It had been a while since she had showered in Yoongi’s apartment and, as Yoongi joined her and closed the shower door, she took a moment to appreciate the excellent water pressure as she wet her hair, closing her eyes.

Yoongi watched her attentively as she ran her hands through her black locks, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. For a moment, her expression softened with contentment as the warm water ran down her back and over her curves. She opened her eyes slowly, the momentary look of bliss smoothing her face, and met his gaze.

“Is this shampoo?” She gestured towards a bottle of lime green liquid on the metal shower rack, affixed to the wall.

“Yes.”

She nodded and squirted the gel onto her palms, working it through her hair. Yoongi watched as she massaged her scalp with her fingers, creating a thick, foamy lather. He reached forward and brushed some of the bubbles away from her eyes with his fingers as she washed the suds away. Turning around, she reached for a white bottle of shower gel on the top shelf of the rack, standing on her tip toes. Yoongi reached up from behind her and grabbed the bottle, placing his hand on her waist softly as he handed it to her. She muttered a low thanks as he moved forward, sweeping her hair over one shoulder as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

“I missed you.” He murmured against her skin, sending low vibrations through her body.

Slowly, she turned around to face him and pressed her lips to his. Grasping her tighter, he opened his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss as she closed the gap between their bodies, discarding the bottle of shower gel to press herself against him. The water from the shower head rained down on them, mixing with the remaining suds of the lime-scented shampoo and running between their lips as they kissed. He moved his lips from hers to kiss along her wet neck, trailing down until he reached the con-caving space between her collar bone and shoulder. He pressed his mouth to her skin, kissing and sucking along the flesh there with open lips, it felt both good and a little ticklish.

Jeong-sun reached up and washed out the remainder of the shampoo with both hands. “The hotel in Busan had a tub.”

“Do you want me to get one?” He muttered against her neck, his teeth gently skimming her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

She paused, despite herself. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I could look for somewhere with a bath.”

“Are you moving?”

“I was thinking about it. Somewhere more quiet...and closer to the pharmacy.” His voice was low against her as he trailed his lips from her neck to her face, kissing along her jaw and cheek.

“I like it here. The street lights work for one thing...” She argued. She knew where he was going with this and was faced with a sudden bout of trepidation.

“It’d be nice to know you were close by.” He whispered against her cheekbone, moving to kiss the side of her nose gently. .

“Would it make much difference?” She questioned as he pulled away from her. “You’re always travelling.”

He looked her in the eye. “I don’t have to.”

“So what will you do all day?”

“I’ll wait for you.” He met her gaze, his face sincere.

There was a pause. “Like a housewife?” She sounded sad and a little annoyed. He sensed this but continued.

“If that’s what it takes...”

“For what?”

“To be with you.” He replied, simply.

She shook her head, her expression both sad and a little frustrated. “Am I that much of a burden?” She reached out and turned the water off. The tap squeaked a little as she twisted the knob.

“No...” He frowned, trying to vocalise what he had been sensing since the start of the evening. “Is something bothering you?” His voice came out a little louder than expected, twinged with annoyance at not knowing what was wrong. Without the water to drown out the sound, it echoed around the tiles. They both shrunk back a little and he made an effort to lower his voice. “You sounded...off...last night.”

He followed her out of the shower and handed her a navy towel from the wooden stand in the corner when he saw her looking around for one. She wrapped it around her body as he covered his lower body with his own. Sighing heavy and dropping her hands to her sides, she turned to him.

“I just don’t want you to give up all you’ve worked for to be with me.”

His brow furrowed into his forehead as he looked her straight in the eye. “I won’t.” It sounded like a compromise rather than a promise but she tried to ignore this as she led the way into the attached bedroom. She sat on the edge of the double bed and dried her body.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, running his own towel along his stomach and chest. His voice was calm, as though he had already forgotten that things had gotten a little heated and uncomfortable between them only five minutes before. Or, Jeong-sun thought in hindsight, like he wanted to forget.

Her stomach rumbled. “Yeah. I tried to eat on the coach but couldn’t finish it.”

“Motion sickness?”

“Yeah.” She lied. “What have you got in?”

He thought for a moment as she reached for her discarded bra. “Leftover chicken. I could make a stir fry?”

She reached behind to clasp up her bra and roamed her eyes down his body, eyebrow raised. “Are you going to cook naked?”

He laughed, a wide toothy grin spreading across his face. He walked over to the wardrobe and picked up a fresh set of clothes, towelling himself off and getting dressed before he headed into the kitchen. It took her a little longer to get ready as she dried her long hair with the towel and brushed it out. She had always kept meaning to bring her spare hair dryer to Yoongi’s apartment but kept forgetting to. When she trailed down the hallway to the kitchen ten minutes later, the delicious smell of chicken, peppers and vegetables filled the air. Yoongi was humming to himself as he stirred the contents of the wok, something uplifting and slightly tuneless. Jeong-sun couldn’t help but smile as she entered the room and he turned to her. He often hummed when cooking and it was in little moments like this that she realised how much she loved who he was.

“How spicy do you want it?” He had started to sprinkle orange-coloured powder from a little glass pot into the wok.

She learned over his shoulder and tapped the glass container in his hand, spilling more into the food. He grinned in response as she pulled away and dished it onto two plates. He glanced at her, pausing the spatula in his hand.

“Do you want more?”

She smiled as her stomach grumbled loudly once more. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” She climbed up onto a high stool by the clear kitchen counter which served for a makeshift table. He had never bothered to purchase a separate dining set, although the kitchen was big enough to accommodate one.

He grinned and dished the remainder of the food onto her plate, joining her on the marble island. She tucked into her plate as soon as he put it in front of her. It tasted delicious.

“Do they prepare food for you on tour?” She asked between mouthfuls, suddenly curious. As strange as it seemed, she never usually asked him too many details about his travelling and performances and he never seemed overly desperate to tell. When they were together, their world seemed to revolve around one another, sheltered from the outside world. That side of his life, as chaotic and unusual as it was, never seemed to matter when he was with her.

He nodded, chewing his food. If he was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. He had opted to use a fork and shovelled another in to his mouth. “Sometimes. Or we eat out.”

“Can you read the menu?”

“Sometimes...”

“Where has the best food?” She wondered.

His reply was sudden and deadpan. “Korea.”

She finished her food in silence, wondering whether that was true, or whether it was more wistfulness on his part. He had been growing increasingly sentimental recently, over the past few months. The change in his behaviour had coincided with them spending less time than usual together, as the band’s success abroad had reached a drastic incline.

She put her chopsticks down. “I’ll wash up.”

“No need. I’ve got a new dishwasher.”

Her eyes flickered to the corner of the room to the new machine by the washing machine. She had not noticed it before and smirked. “Does it get much use?” She knew the answer before he spoke.

“Not really. I wait until I’ve put out of plates.” He placed the pots on the top rack of the machine and closed the door before turning back to Jeong-sun. “Are you staying the night?”

“If you want me to.” She slipped off the stool and joined him as they walked back into the bedroom.

“Of course I do. I haven’t seen you in over a month.” He said, a little disparagingly.

“I don’t have clean underwear.” It wasn’t an excuse, just a fact.

“I’ll wash them for you. Light or dark?”

She laughed. “Dark.”

“Are you going to sleep naked?” He asked. She would have made a sly remark but she could hear the soberness in his voice.

“No, I’ve got Pyjamas.” She had packed a spare pair for Busan, just in case of emergency. She pulled them out from the case, moving aside a couple of small shampoo bottles and a little sewing kit to get to them. Yoongi watched her with a smile.

“Did you get those from the hotel?” He nodded towards the miniatures.

“I never turn down a freebie.” She grinned, handing him the small pile of washing. He walked over the hamper and collected a few items of his own, all dark, before walking to the kitchen. When he returned five minutes later, Jeong-sun had settled under the bed covers. The bedside lamp was on.

“i know it’s not that late...I’m sorry, I’m knackered.” She said.

He “It’s okay, I’m tired too.” He flicked off the main bulb and undressed to his shirt and boxer shorts before walking over to his side of the bed. It wasn’t strictly true that he was tired, but he could see from the dark circles under her eyes that she needed the rest badly. He climbed in quietly and turned off the lamp, snuggling himself close to her back. She allowed herself to be pulled close, feeling his warm breath against her neck as she closed her eyes and tried to drift off. Despite her sleepiness, she found herself shifting against him several times, nestling herself into his body at a different angle in an attempt to get comfy. His sheets smelt nice, they always did, but it had been a long while since she had shared his bed and the change to the norm was a little jarring. She moved again, pushing her hips against his stomach. She felt something against her arse and sighed.

“You’re poking me...”

He laughed against her back. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed her arm gently. “It’s been a while.”

He would have been content to leave it and let her sleep but she rolled her body over to face him, their bodies pressed close. She reached out and stroked him through his underwear, tracing the thick outline of his cock gently. He let out a small gasp at the contact, his eyes flickering closed.

“I thought you were tired?” He asked.

She shrugged. “I can’t get comfy.”

He moved his lips to hers and kissed her for the first time since the shower. His lips were light and soft against her, like the flicker of a butterfly’s wings in the summer. He trailed his lips along her cheekbones and nose, pecking her with slightly open lips as she continued to rub him. He moved his hand down to her tartan pyjama bottoms and undid the tie at the waistband slowly.

“Can you go on top?” She whispered, sounding both breathy and tired.

He nodded against her face before shifting his weight so he was on top of her. He kissed her a few more times before moving down her body, pressing his lips against her chest before pulling up her camisole style pyjama top to reveal her bellybutton. He kissed her stomach, hips and uncovered pubis as he pulled the tartan bottoms down her legs. She let out a low moan as his lips found her clitoris in the dark.

 

**PART TWO**

She had fallen asleep shortly after he had reached climax and cleaned her with a wet flannel. He had been loving and gentle, telling her how much he had missed her as he trailed the cloth along her inner thighs. She woke up a few times during the night, once needing to use the bathroom and another when she heard the cry of a fox outside. Both times she had found him wrapped around her, his lips against her shoulder. In the morning she was sure she felt the soft touch of his lips as they pecked her cheek. She smiled in her sleep and rolled over.

When she woke up fully the bed was deserted and a bright beam of sunlight shone through the crack in the curtains. She rolled over and looked at the bedside table. He had left her a glass of water on the wooden structure and a layer of little bubbles floated near the surface, indicating he had been up a while. She turned the other way to cast a glance at the clock on the wall. It was past midday. She sat up, her body feeling heavy despite having overslept and took a sip from the glass. The water was lukewarm.

She rubbed her eyes as she walked down the hallway and into the studio. Yoongi was seated at his piano, leaning over the keys to scratch markings onto the music sheet with a pencil.

He glanced up at her. “Did the drier wake you?”

“Not really.” She walked into the room, her feet bare against the floor. There was the faint smell of polish in the air and she spotted a yellow cloth on the circular table in the corner of the room. The black baby grand piano glistened. “I wondered where you’d gone.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” He was dressed casually in a grey pair of jogging bottoms and a plain black t-shirt. His feet were bare.

“What are you up to?” She edged closer, walking around the baby grand to his side.

“Writing music.” He put the pencil down on the little music stand.

“What’s it about?” Again, her curiosity was new-founded. She usually left him alone when he was working and, while he was far from secretive about his work, he didn’t like to bother her with it. It seemed important that she ask him about it now.

He shrugged in reply to her question. “Nothing new.”

She sat beside him on the piano stool, there was just about enough room although her rear was much fleshier than his own. “Can you play some for me?” She asked, not really knowing what to expect.

He shrugged once again and moved his fingers to the keys nonchalantly, picking out a few notes. The music was in the minor key and, she thought, sounded melancholy. She didn’t mention this. Instead. “Have you finished the lyrics yet?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Shall I leave you for a bit?” She stood up.

“No.” He protested, reaching out for her waist. “I’ve just got you back...” He sounded wistful and she perched herself on his knee as he pulled her in closer, his arms wrapped around her body.

She gazed down at him. “Are you still going to Daegu?” She asked, thinking of what he had told her on the phone while she was in Busan. She had thought it an excuse for him to come and see her but he surprised her.

“Maybe next week. Do you want to come?” He sounded hopeful as he rubbed her thigh warmly.

She shook her head. “I’ll be working.”

“I don’t mind waiting until your day off?”

The implication that he would be taking her to meet his family for the first time seemed obvious and she felt a pang of regret in her stomach. She wondered whether he had told them about her. She had mentioned him to her mother casually on a few occasions but hadn’t mentioned what he did for a living. Her mother was sweet and caring but had also grown liberal and adventurous in her older age, always going backpacking or travelling. She knew that her mom loved both her and her brother, but she had little involvement in their personal lives.

“Maybe.” She couldn’t hide her caution and he frowned, reaching behind her to pick up the sheet of music and pencil which he placed on top of the piano.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She sighed, her eyes dropping from his to the hand on her knee. “I’ve been feeling a bit down these days.” She explained, sounding sadder than she had expected.

He paused. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

The sound of his voice, concerned and sincere made her meet his eye again. He looked at serious as he sounded and she smiled, a little hollowly, petting his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If you’re sure...” He looked doubtful, not wanting to let it drop but giving her that choice. Her heart ached and she brushed his forehead lovingly, moving a strand of slightly curly black hair from his brow. His lips were parted as he gazed up at her, a little dreamily.

“You’re a good person Yoongi.” She said, her eyes moving over his face to take in his features, his soft brown eyes, his little button nose which he always scrunched when he was being playful, his pink lips which kissed her so lovingly and had given her so much pleasure. As she did this, she could feel him doing the same to her, eyes flickering over her face, his expression tender. He cupped her cheek with his palm and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her closer as their mouths parted in unison. His lips were impossibly soft against her but the kiss soon turned heated as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and moaned against him, brushing his tongue with her own. She shifted on his lap and he let out a groan as her upper thigh brushed his cock. Feeling the vibration in her mouth, she moved against him again, grinding herself deliberately against him as he gasped, his mouth open against hers, their breath warm against each other.

When her covered pussy brushed him again, he stood up suddenly, unable to take it any longer. She moved with him as he pressed her against the edge of the piano, his lips moving with her as they kissed frantically. Her arse connected with the keys as he leaned backwards, causing the baby grand to let out a loud, discordant bong. He ignored it as he moved his lips from hers to kiss and suck down her neck, his lips and tongue caressing her skin, leaving a wet trail along her.

She moaned at the sensation, her clitoris throbbing hard as he pulled down her pyjama top a little roughly, tugging the grey fabric beneath her bare breasts and kissing her breasts with his moist lips. She had to place one hand against the lip of the piano to keep her balance as his hands roamed along her body, she brushed her messy hair from her face with the other hand, smoothing it away from her damp forehead and letting out a low whine as Yoongi’s began to suck her nipples, his mouth creating a suction against the hard, puckered nubs as his eyelashes brushed and tickled her flesh. His lips felt desperate against her and he continued to nurse her, ignoring as she brushed his hair with her fingertips, trying to ease him away. She gave in and allowed him to continue his gentle assault on her breasts, having been apart for so long, he seemed to be getting comfort as well as pleasure from this act and she allowed herself to relish the way the sensation resonated to her clit and made her throb agonisingly in her PJ bottoms. The sight of Yoongi latched onto her always filled her with emotion; he always seemed so vulnerable and tender when he did it, but today it was making her feel strangely mournful as well. She was almost relieved when he moved back to her lips and kissed her passionately.

His hand slipped under the elastic of her PJ’s and stroked along her slit. She was soaking and he moaned into her mouth at the sensation, pushing his fingertips through her folds to brush her swollen clit.

“Fuck me...” She begged, pulling away from his lips. He looked at her for a moment, their faces pressed close, before capturing her mouth once more and moving his fingers against her. She moaned into his mouth and reached forward, sliding her fingers beneath his baggy pants and taking out his swollen cock. She squeezed him before stroking him, a little roughly. His spare hand moved along her arse cheeks, massaging the covered flesh there in kneedy motions.

“Please...” She broke away from him and moaned against his lips. He looked at her, his brown eyes meeting hers gently. His breath was warm and sweet against her face and he smelt of spicy aftershave and lime shampoo. His expression was hard to read but he complied in loosening his grip on her body and slipping his hand out from under her waistband. He glided the bottoms along her legs, bending down to slip them over her feet before straightening back up and taking a few steps away from her. He removed his shirt and jogging bottoms as she slid her top from her body and joined him on the other side of the piano stool, pressing her lips back to his.

“Here...” He pulled away and touched the piano stool. “Kneel.” He pushed the seat against the bottom of the piano and she raised an eyebrow teasingly before she crawled silently onto the red plush fabric, facing away from him and resting her arms on top of the piano. He couldn’t help but cup both breasts in his hands as he moved closer, reaching around her body to squeeze them together gently before moving his palms down her rib cage to her hips and arse. He ran his fingers along her bare labia, visible between her sticky thighs, admiring the flushed pinkness of her lips and the moisture which gathered beneath his fingerprints. She moaned and he sank two fingers inside her wet opening, pushing in easily as she shifted to rest her head lazily against the top of the black piano.

“You’re still dressed.” She complained, referring to his underwear. His cock strained against the fabric, the shaft visible above the waistband.

“What’s the rush?” He asked in a breathless voice as he pressed his lips to her lower back.

She shook her head slowly. “I just need you...”

“We don’t have to be anywhere...”

“Please.” She repeated, pleadingly.

He slipped his fingers out of her and pulled down his boxers. She shifted her body on the stool, dangling one leg down from the structure before he moved back to her, grasping himself and pushing inside her. She gasped loudly as he filled her in one go, his hand sinking around her waist to hold her steady by the lower stomach.

“Oh, fuck you feel good.” He whispered, unable to help complimenting the feel of her tight pussy around him. She murmured in agreement as he moved against her, pulling himself almost completely out before thrusting back inside to the hilt. He was quicker than usual, sensing that this was what she was looking for...what she needed from him. Her moans filled the room like music, her mouth open and pressed against his polished piano. As he felt her body heat up beneath his fingertips, he pressed closer, flattening his naked body against hers and burying himself inside her as he pressed his lips against her back.

Growing increasingly frenzied, he grasped at the thigh which dangled from the stool and pushed it up against the piano, her leg bending at the knee and creating another low note from the keys as she knelt on them. She whined as he reached around the front of her and flicked her clitoris with his index and middle finger, massaging her wet nub frantically as his hips snapped against her.

His lips moved to her ear lobe, his breath hot against her. “I love you.”

She turned her head as much as she could, moving from the top of the piano to open her lips against his. They kissed fervidly, intensely, their lips and tongues merging messily. They were both panting heavily as they pulled away to look at each other, their noses almost touching. Jeong-sun felt her cunt clench around him suddenly as a hot wave of pleasure washed over her, making her entire body tremble. She wasn’t sure whether the cause had come from his cock or his fingers but it consumed her entire being and her eyes bolted shut as she shuddered against him. He hadn’t quite caught up with her and he continued to fuck her roughly as she came.

“Fuck!” She cried out as she felt herself let go a stream of liquid from between her thighs, accompanying her orgasm and soaking the stool and floor beneath her. She stiffened against him, her hands clutching at the pages of music he had discarded on top of the piano, crumpling them inadvertently between her fingers. Dozens of smudged fingerprints now covered the previously polished surface.

Yoongi, as surprised as her, recognised it for what it was and couldn’t help but increase his motions against her. “It’s alright...keep going.” He moaned against her and he felt her relax as she rode out her orgasm, the fluid continuing to gush from her for what seemed like an exceptionally long time, but was only seconds. She felt her cheeks flush as her orgasm completely drained her. She collapsed against the piano and Yoongi pulled away from her clit but continued to thrust into her quickly, urging his own orgasm to come quickly in order to spare her from becomig too sensitive. He moved as close to her as he could, sliding his fingers over hers and pressing them against the piano. His palms were hot and sweaty. She focused her gaze on them, his large vein covered hands against her small pink ones, as he reached his own high. The sheets of music, written so shortly before, were completely creased now, having torn a few holes in the white paper, but he didn’t seem to care. He let out a breathy groan, uncharacteristically loud, against her before collapsing against her upper back. His damp cheek pressing against her skin.

His breathing slowed down and he moved his head to the side, pressing his lips against her spine before pulling himself out of her, his cock sliding from her easily and resting uselessly against his thigh. The suddenness of the motion combined with the lubrication from both their bodies caused his semen to drip from her opening messily, mixing with her own fluids.

She mourned how empty she felt when he pulled out of her and observed the sensation of his warm cum dripping down her leg. “You’re stool’s ruined.” She sighed against the piano. “And your lyrics...”

“They were shit anyway.” He replied, his voice still unstable and gaspy. He held her still for a few moments before trailing his fingertips along her body lovingly. She frowned as she felt him tracing along her lower back, just off-centre of her spine before realising what he was touching.

“I don’t get to see this often...” He said, his voice tender as his fingers moved along the black outline of her butterfly tattoo.

“Isn’t that a good thing? It’s shit.” She smirked, still sounding exhausted.

“No...not at all.” His voice was affectionate, earnest. “Can you stand?”

“I can try.” She felt him shift away from her body as she straightened her arched back. His hands moved to her body, holding her steadily, reassuringly as she stepped off the stool. The floor was damp beneath her bare feet.

“Don’t slip.” He said and she couldn’t help but burst into laughter, her voice surprisingly energetic and warm considering how drained she felt from her orgasm. He smirked as he turned her around gently to face him. Her cheeks were flushed in a way he thought made her look beyond gorgeous and she threw her arms around his shoulders as she grinned, partially for support as her body continued to tremble with a mixture of exhaustion and laughter. He moved her away from the mess.

“I’ve never done that before...” She admitted, her eyes flickering to the floor before she pressed her lips to his, pecking him affectionately.

“What’s changed?” He asked curiously.

She shrugged. “You’ve never fucked me like that before.”

“Was it good for you?” His voice was soft.

“It must have been...” She smirked a little drily, not admitting that she had never experienced an orgasm like that in her life. She followed him to the little sofa in the corner of the studio and let out a little surprised sound as he flopped onto the fabric, pulling her with him. She sat on top of him, her limbs entwined around his as he cradled her body. She didn’t think she had ever been more aware of her own nudity, and his as he stoked her fleshy thigh lovingly. The light in the studio was awfully unflattering and the skin there puckered with cellulite and a couple of stretch marks she had bore since her late teenage years but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I love everything about you.” He said, his eyes gazing dreamily at her body, running from her thighs to her feet to the rolls of skin on her stomach. There was not a trace of irony in his voice and she felt her stomach grow simultaneously warm and cold. Butterflies of affection mixed with something else, something sadder.

“Like what?” She asked, not sure why but suddenly needing him to tell her.

He moved his hand from her thigh to her calf and rubbed the skin there. “Like how when I’m with you I can just forget about everything.” His eyes remained fixed on his own hand as he stroked her, his gaze soft. “You don’t have anything bad to say about anyone...you’re just lovely.”

“I’ve never seen you being bad to anyone either.” She said gently. “Except maybe Jimin.”

“What?” He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“When we first met...just before the closet.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I wanted to talk to you. He interrupted that.”

There was a long pause as she thought, remembering the events of the day they met vividly, despite them taking place almost a year before. She had to wonder whether he remembered things just as vividly, or if he remembered things happening in the same way that she did. She had been amused by his little quips during the game of seven minutes in heaven; how he teased the other members and complained incessantly that the game had been a stupid idea. She had secretly agreed, wondering whether her friend Angel had deliberately set-up the game in order to make her house guests feel as humiliated and awkward as possible, but then his bottle had landed on her and his reaction, seemingly cold and unhappy, had momentarily offended her.

“Do you think things would have been different if he hadn’t?” She asked, wondering herself. Had their reluctance to tell anyone about their relationship been born from that moment in the closet? With neither of them wanting to admit to their friends that the game had not been such a stupid idea after all? The idea seemed pointless now, after all these months, and that was certainly not the only thing to blame, but fact still remained that they had been brought together, initially, on other people’s terms.

“Maybe.” He said. He thought for a moment, his expression deepening. Jeong-sun wondered for a moment whether he was going to repeat her concern about how they had met, but his expression relaxed. “I’d have fallen for you anyway.” He sounded wistful, as though he were in the middle of a daydream and she found that it grated on her unexpectedly.

“Why?”

“I can’t see myself with anyone else. Just you.” He looked her in the eye and she dropped the gaze, suddenly aware of how sweaty and messy her body was.

“We should clean up...” She stood up slowly and helped him to his feet, holding his hands in hers. They walked towards the doorway and she motioned, “What about the floor?”

He shook his head. “It can wait.”

 

**PART THREE**

He allowed her to step into the shower first and followed her in, closing the glass door behind them and turning on the water. He detached the shower head from its stand and rinsed them both down, starting with himself before turning the water onto Jeong-sun. He squirted a handful of the jasmine scented shower gel he kept on the rack and lathered it onto her skin. She turned around to face the back wall as he moved his hands over her back, tracing her shoulder blades and running over her curves, following the suds with the shower head to clean her. After he had finished with her back, he directed the spray between her thighs, soaping up her inner thighs, massaging her skin with his large palms to clean her. She pressed herself flat against the porcelain tiles as he finished cleaning her lower body and moved to her hips, holding her steady. Suddenly, he heard her sob, once; the sound echoing around the room, vibrating across the tiles. He quickly spun her around by the shoulder and turned off the tap. He held the head in his hand as his eyes flickered over her face.

“Jeong-sun? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you - before...?” He asked, observing that, despite her only crying out once, she had clearly been tearing up for the last few minutes in silence. Wet trails ran down her otherwise dry cheeks. He couldn’t help but worry. He had never made anyone squirt before and, while he knew it wasn’t support to hurt, he had to wonder.

She shook her head, her lips together tightly, her lower lip trembling. “No. You’re a really good boyfriend.” Her voice was alarmingly shaky and he rubbed her shoulder gently.

“Is that a reason to cry?” He asked, his voice warm but confused. His heart leapt unpleasantly in her chest when she let out another series of low sobs, clutching her palm to her mouth tightly as her entire body shook. Realising he was still holding the shower head, he placed it back on the stand and held both her shoulders for a moment, trying to calm her down. She refused to meet his gaze, her eyes continuing to leak tears. He let go of her and opened the shower door; a trail of hot steam filled the otherwise cool room as he stepped out of the cubicle. She allowed him to take her hand and lead her from the bathroom into the bedroom. Once she was sat down, he quickly went back into the other room to fetch a pair of large bath towels to wrap around each of them. She thanked him quietly as she slipped hers around her naked body.

“is this about what you said before?” He asked, standing beside her and covering himself with the navy sheet. He was referring to what she had said before things had gotten heated; that she had been feeling down lately.

She didn’t answer him immediately, just sat there shivering slightly with cold. The room, with the curtains still drawn, was the coldest in the house. He wondered whether she knew what he was talking about and was about to reassure her before she finally spoke. “I don’t think I can do this...” Her voice was steadier but not entirely flat.

“Do what?” He asked, frowning.

She shook her head as another tear ran down her cheek as she met his gaze. “I don’t know how we can make this work.”

“Make what work?”

“A relationship. A normal relationship.” Her lip trembled.

He could tell that she was struggling to look at him as she said this, but was forcing herself to. “I don’t understand.” He said, quietly. Her reply had completely knocked the wind out of his body and he was finding it difficult to stand. He looked at her, trying to read her expression, trying to work out whether a part of her was joking.

“It shouldn’t be this complicated. We’ve not even told anyone really...”

Something hit home and he realised that, while she wasn’t joking, the issue could be easily fixed. Of course the same point had been bothering him for some time; he wanted nothing more than to be able to love her openly as the others did with their partners. He thought that going to meet his parents in the upcoming weeks would be a positive step in that direction. While he understood what was bothering her, he didn’t quite see why it would cause her to sob like that. He wondered whether she was due a period which would explain the tears coming so soon after they had made love.

He shrugged, trying to keep his own voice steady. “I don’t have a problem with people knowing. You’re not a secret.”

“It feels like it.” Her voice was low, almost accusing.

“I’m sorry...” He apologised, his own voice sincere and sad. He hadn’t realised just how much this had been playing on her mind. “If that’s the problem we can go out somewhere...I’ll introduce you...”

“It’s my fault too.” She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I liked keeping you to myself. Not even Angel knows.”

“So what’s the problem?” He shrugged, holding out his palms.

“It’s not just that.” She admitted, her voice low.

He sighed softly. “I’m trying to understand.”

A fresh set of tears streamed down her pink cheeks, making his heart ache. “I’m sorry, I’m not making much sense. I don’t usually feel this pathetic.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic...”

“I feel it.” The sound of her voice took him by surprise. He had never heard her sound so completely hopeless before.

“What can I do?” He asked, gently, taking a step closer to her.

She thought for a moment but her reply was not optimistic. “I don’t know.”

He found his mind suddenly racing over the events of the past few months, trying to fix itself on something which could have caused these feeling of doubt within her. He sighed heavily as he remembered the last time they had been together in person, over a month before. It seemed both more recent than that but also an incredibly long time ago. “In the car...” He started, his heart aching at the bitter-sweet memory. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t the right time to ask.”

She met his gaze, her brown eyes wide and glistening. “Did you mean it?”

He nodded and chose his next words carefully, wanting to tell the truth but aware that the time since had tainted his memory, making him remember things differently, making him more nostalgic. The night had been impossibly cold but her body had comforted him like a blanket. He had never experienced love making like that before. He felt his own eyes sting. “I thought so. I thought it would make things simpler.”

“How could it?” She sighed.

He shrugged, finding himself lost for the right words. He licked his dry lips. “I just want to be with you. I want you to be happy.”

“I’m not happy.” Her reply came immediately, simply, and he felt his stomach lurch as though he had been punched. If Jeong-sun had been looking at him in that moment, she would have seen his momentary expression of surprise and anguish. His bottom lip trembled uncontrollably.

There was a long pause as tried to gather himself. “I didn’t know that.”

“Not even a little bit?” She turned to face him once more and he felt her accusation rip through him.

“I didn’t realise it was this bad.”

His expression made her sorry for him. He looked as though his world had just fallen down around him and, she knew, it was all her fault. Still, she needed to tell him the truth. She had been covering up how she felt to herself for too long. She had certainly realised in Busan how this would have to go, and now she finally realised, there was no use in lying to him, even if it was the kinder thing to do. She gulped and replied slowly, wanting to choose the right words. “I don’t think you wanted to realise.”

“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely shocked and she continued.

“I think you like knowing that I’ll always be there to comfort you when you come back...”

He cut in. “That’s not fair!” The volume took her by surprise and she flinched a little.

She blinked before continuing, his impassioned outburst spurring her own, allowing her to be almost caustic. “I feel like I’m always waiting around for you. It’s okay for you...you come home and I’m always there for you to blow your load in...”

His expression changed as he looked at her, growing angry. “Do you think that’s what you mean to me?” He sounded completely exasperated.

“I don’t know. Is it?” She sighed, feeling her own body hurt in response to her words. How could she explain it all to him in a way that he would understand? Could she explain the hours that she had spent waiting for him to come back off tour? Her life continuing in its daily monotony, getting up, doing to work, cooking, showering, going to sleep, while he was away in America or Europe or Japan, performing to thousands of fans while she administered a flu jab or had a customer cough up phlegm all over her new uniform. Would he understand how it felt to have a friend explain, casually, that she was fucking her boyfriend’s band mate, as though it meant nothing. All the while her own relationship had been kept a secret from almost everybody for over half a year for absolutely no reason other than the timing had never been right. Or the times they had been together and she had found herself unable to focus on how good he made her feel because all she could think about was how many hours or minutes they had left before he had to go away again, for days or months at a time. She knew it was probably selfish...or was it? Was it too much to want to be able to spend time with the man she loved, to be able to go out with him in public without wondering if it would destroy his career if they were seen together. She couldn’t explain all of this to him; it would have made things worse. Instead, she focused on one aspect which could easily be vocalised. “I feel like you’re all wound up until I fuck you.”

He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. She looked up at him, her eyes dry but still glistening. He thought that it was her who looked guilty now.

“Is that how you see it?” He asked, finally able to speak. He felt he didn’t have any strength left in him to argue. The last ten minutes felt too surreal to vocalise and he wished, with all his heart, that this was all some sort of elaborate wind-up. He knew it wasn’t, but accepting that the woman he loved thought so little of him after all this time was too much to bare.

“It feels that way sometimes.” Her voice was quiet. It seemed that she too had run out of steam and was unable to argue any longer.

His chest ached so much he thought he was going to be sick. “It was never just ‘fucking’ to me.” His voice came out steady, stating a fact. He thought he saw her expression drop, momentarily, and saw in that second that she didn’t entirely believe her own words either. He wondered why he she was doing this. Was this part easier to explain than the entire truth?

When she spoke, it came out calmer. “Recently...I don’t think you see things as they are.” This was what had bothered her the most on the phone in Busan, she thought. That he seemed to be fixated on the idea that loving her was all that mattered to him anymore. He had always been quietly romantic and surprisingly tender with her, but recently it was starting to feel as though he was living in a daydream where being with her would solve all of his problems. His next argument confirmed this and she felt her chest drop.

“I’d give up everything to be with you!”

She sighed, trying to make him understand. “I know. I don’t want you to.” She wondered whether he had felt this way a few months ago and doubted it. The fact he was now so willing to abandon his friends, his career, his talents to be with a pharmacist from Gwangju was too much.

“So what do you want?” He asked, feeling hopeless.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, starting to sob again. She took a deep breath and a moment of clarity struck her. “I wish we could just start over.” The timing had been wrong since the day they met and now, she wished more than anything, that the last eleven months had never happened. That she could meet him again, for the first time, in a year’s time or two years and fall in love with him all over again.

He frowned, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. His heart sank at the thought, knowing that he would not change a thing between them. That he would not give up the memories they had together for anything; for all the money in the world. The thought of explaining that to her was too much. He pressed his lips together tightly to stop them from trembling. “Do you still love me?” He asked, needing to know and realising as he said it that he had asked her something similar the night in Busan, sensing that something had been wrong.

“I do.” She said immediately, wiping her eyes. “I don’t think you’d believe how much at this point.”

He sighed, his arms dropping heavily to his sides. “Then why are we doing this?”

“Because I don’t know how long we can keep going around in circles.”

“Aren’t you even willing to try and fix this?” He asked, begging her.

There was a pause. “I don’t know if we can...”

“Please.” He whispered. “Tell me how.”

“I can’t...” Tears fell freely down her face.

Her reply and its indication roused a fresh amount of frustration in him. “So what?” He raised his voice. “I just stop loving you?”

She looked as though her heart was breaking too. “It’d be easier if you did...”

“I can’t do that!” He practically shouted, feeling outraged. “Could you?” The thought was too much for him to bare. That she would be so easily able to forget about him...about them.

She thought for a moment, her cheeks wet. When she replied, it was low, pathetic. “Eventually...I don’t know.”

“How long?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about it.”

He licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, visibly agitated, momentarily turning away before twisting back. “Well I won’t stop...” He directed himself at her.“Even if you do, I won’t.”

“It’s for the best...” Her voice was weak, like a small animal.

“We break up?” He said it like he couldn’t believe it.

She nodded.

“You really mean it?”

She nodded again, avoiding his gaze.

He took a deep breath. “I can’t...” Unable to finish his sentence, he clutched his palm to his face, his expression mirroring that of hers earlier in the shower surprisingly eerily, and turned away from her as he let out a low sob, his own eyes filling with tears.

Jeong-sun didn’t think she had any tears left to cry, her eyes were red and sore, but she felt a fresh set cascade down her face as she glimpsed at her boyfriend, clutching her navy towel tightly to her chest. She had never seen him like this before and her instinct was to wrap her arms around his bare shoulders, shelter him, protect him, love him. She found herself standing up before she realised what she was doing and why she couldn’t.

He seemed to realise, as he gathered himself and turned back to her, what she was doing and held out his palm, the other still clutched over his lips. “No.” He took a step away from her and her heart dropped at the sight of him, practically cowering away from her. “Don’t.”

Even in his state, Yoongi realised that she couldn’t comfort him. That it would make all of this so much harder.

She didn’t bother to wipe her face. “I’m sorry...” She said sincerely.

He removed his hand, his body now feeling more under control. “You’re sure this is what you want?” He asked.

She looked at him, wondering whether it was too late to take all of this back and pretend as though nothing had happened. To clean up the mess in the studio that had been the result of their passion and love and to cuddle in bed until this horrible day was over. The tears had started to dry on her cheeks and she took a deep breath, not knowing what she was going to say until the words left her mouth, confirming how things had to be.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” As she said it, she realised that if she kept on loving him, that would be exactly what she would do to him, sooner or later. She remembered telling him the same thing, two nights ago on the phone and how her heart had sank when he had replied that she never could. Looking at him now, she had proved that not to be true, but by ending things, she could spare him the heartbreak later on. Perhaps when they had gotten themselves buried in too deep to separate without destroying each other.

He met her gaze, coolly across the dim room. “You neither.” He said. There was finally a tone of acceptance in his voice before he left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

As she dressed, numbly, the gravitas of what she had just done bearing down on her shoulders, he unloaded the dryer of both of their clothes and sorted them into piles before getting dressed in some of his own, not bothering with the iron. He left her set folded on the top of the sofa in the living room, where she was sure to see them on her way out. He considered what he should do next, glancing at the open doorway to the bedroom and seeing a flash of pale skin as Jeong-sun removed the towel and started to dress. Not knowing what else he could do, he grabbed a packet of cigarettes from the back of the kitchen draw, the cellophane still on, and left the building out the front door.

She came into the hallway ten minutes later, clutching her heavy hold-all in her hands. It had already gotten dark outside and the street lights had just begun to flicker on. Yoongi stood by the front door on the little stoop, smoking a cigarette in silence but the sound of her struggling with the lock on the inside of the door brought his attention back to her. She had never figured out the lock, always letting Yoongi let her out. He reached over and let her out, exhaling a stream of smoke silently as she fiddle with the zipper on her bag.

She looked at him, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

“I’ll see you...” She said quietly, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. No matter what she had said to him, she still cared about him a great deal and always would. She could never resent him.

He did not move as her lips pressed softly against his skin, knowing that it would hurt too much if he allowed himself to treasure it as more than it was...a kiss goodbye. He watched as she hooked the bag strap over her shoulder and walked to the edge of the little platform.

“Get home safe.” He said, stubbing out his cigarette end on the stone pavement below as she climbed down the steps. He watched her walk to the end of the quiet street until she turned the corner and he knew she was safe on the high street, before he turned to go back inside.

**PART FOUR**

_A week and a half later_

Jin had been feeling a little on edge for the past few days but could not work out the reason why. They had all come off their vacation time earlier in the week and he could tell that something hadn’t been right. He hadn’t been able to give it much thought, he had injured his ankle during dance practice on the day they came back and had too much to worry about, with their upcoming single coming out soon.

As was customary, most of the members had temporarily moved back into the shared house to work on the new album and he found the youngest three sitting in the living room, watching T.V. They glanced his way when he entered and he thought they had looked surprisingly relieved.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, noticing the nervous way they looked at each other.

Unable to keep a secret for long, Taehyung spoke up, gesturing for the older member to close the door behind him. He complied. “Did you hear about what happened with Yoongi and Namjoon?” He asked, his voice a little hushed, despite the fact the rap line were not home that day.

Jin frowned, concerned. “No what?”

“They had a fight...” Taehyung murmured.

Jin didn’t know whether to smile, the thought of it ridiculous, but the expression on the other two member’s faces made him stop. “What? How serious?”

Jimin chimed in. “Yoongi hit him in the face.”

Now Jin did laugh, disbelieving. “What? He wouldn’t do that...” He didn’t have to explain how well he knew Yoongi, having spent years sharing a room with him.

What Jimin said next, however, cast some doubt in his mind. “Hoseok told me...he was in the room when it happened and had to hold Yoongi back...He wouldn’t lie about something like that. He looked pretty upset.” Jungkook, seated beside him, nodded in agreement.

Jin had no reason to doubt Hoseok. If there was anyone who knew Yoongi better than him, it was surely Hoseok, but the thought still troubled him.

Before he could say this, Taehyung cut back in. “Namjoon didn’t look too happy either. He went to bed straight away last night and didn’t talk to me...”

Jin thought he could hear the sulk in the younger member’s voice at this, but changed the subject. “Did Hoseok say what the fight was about?”

Jimin met his gaze. “Yoongi’s girlfriend...”

Jin scoffed. “Yoongi has a girlfriend? Since when?”

Taehyung corrected him. “Had a girlfriend. They broke up...”

Jin tried to wrap his mind around this new information. “When did you find this out?”

“Yesterday.” Jimin said. Jungkook looked as though he wanted to say something but closed his mouth, instead opting to take a large bite out of the tuna and prawn sandwich he was currently holding.

Jin shook his head, still not sure whether he believed it. “I’ve never seen him with a girl...”

"I have.” Jungkook said in-between mouthfuls of bread. Three pairs of eyes turned to him.

“Who?” Taehyung asked, wondering why the maknae had not mentioned his earlier.

The younger member washed down his food with a sip of water. “The one who knows Angel.” He said, turning his eyes automatically to Jimin.

“I don’t remember.” Jimin said, trying to think through Angel’s group of friends. There was the girl with the burgundy hair, of course, but he had never seen Yoongi talk to her. He had broken up with Angel some months before.

Something clicked and Taehyung turned to Jungkook. “The one who is friends with Hoseok’s pen pal?”

Jimin perked up. “With the pin badge collection?”

“Yeah, her.” Jungkook said, taking another munch of his sandwich.

Jin also thought he remembered seeing the girl in question a few times but frowned. “Where did you see them?”

Jungkook shrugged. “A couple of times. Angel’s party...Supreme Boi’s.”

“Maybe they are just friends?” Jimin suggested.

Jin shook his head. “If it’s the girl I’m thinking of, they didn’t get along that well...” His mind flashed back to the party where they had played seven minutes in heaven.

“I saw them kissing.” Jungkook said nonchalantly. They all looked at him seriously as he took another bite.

“Where?” Jin asked.

“At the play.”

“What play?” Taehyung asked, forgetting that while he went to many, the others were not so cultured when it came to the theatre.

Jungkook shrugged. “The one about the prison.”

“When?” Taehyung asked.

“Just before...” Jungkook paused, stopping himself from saying what he was about to and re-wording it. “The big scene. They were in the foyer.”

“I didn’t even notice him go out...” Jin said. Taehyung ignored this.

“I needed the bathroom.” Jungkook explained.

"What kind of kiss?” Taehyung asked, changing the topic away from their group visit to the theatre which, in his opinion, had been a disaster.

Jungkook shrugged once more, beginning to regret that he had said anything. “The type you would give your girlfriend.”

Jimin grinned. “With tongues?”

“I didn’t get close enough to see.”

The room erupted into laughter for a moment before they remembered the topic of conversation and how serious it could potentially be if the leader and Yoongi were to fall out.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jimin asked.

“It seemed private.” Jungkook explained, realising as he said it that it was the truth. He didn’t feel any sense of relief at having told them now.

“Are you sure it was that girl?” Jimin asked.

“Well...” Taehyung started. “If it was that girl it must have been serious.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, turning to the younger member.

“Why else would be have hit Namjoon?”

Jin turned to Jimin, knowing that if anyone had this story straight, it would have come from Hoseok. “What exactly did Hoseok say to you?”

Jimin thought for a moment. “Well, he said that Yoongi didn’t arrive back on the first day of practice so Namjoon was getting worried. You know how they have been working on a new rap song right?” Jin nodded and he continued. “Namjoon asked if Hoseok would go to his apartment and see if he was alright because he wasn’t answering his phone. So Hoseok does and finds the whole place in a mess, right? And Yoongi was upset so he was comforting him.”

“How upset?” Taehyung asked, cutting into the story.

“He was crying.” Jimin said. The others couldn’t help but look at each other, a little worried.

“It must be bad.” Taehyung chimed in before Jimin continued.

“So he finally gets Yoongi to go with him to the studio. Namjoon didn’t know about this whole business either so Hoseok explained it all to him. I guess he must have known something...with them being so close. Anyway, Namjoon tried to tell him that he could do better and that was when Yoongi hit him.”

Jin looked shocked. “Is Namjoon okay?”

Taehyung shook his head, remembering how he had looked when he saw him the previous night. “I think he’s pretty mad.”

Jimin scoffed. “I’d be mad too if one of you guys hit me over a girl!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Well, if he’s known her since Angel’s party...” He tried to explain that it was probably a lot more serious between them than any of them were giving them credit for. Jungkook thought that if any of the other members said anything bad about Young-soon, he wouldn’t be very happy either.

“Wouldn’t he have said something though?” Jin asked.

Jimin suddenly slammed his hand down on the wooden coffee table in front of him, making the others jump. “I do remember seeing Yoongi with Angel’s friend somewhere. But if it’s the girl I’m thinking of...she was really plain.” He turned to Jungkook. “Does she wear glasses?”

Jungkook nodded. “Sometimes.”

Jin cut back in, sensing that they had moved away from the main point. “Has anyone actually spoken to Yoongi?”

The three members shook their heads and Jimin looked at him, a little worried. “What if he hits me?”

Taehyung smirked. “We can’t have anyone ruining our money maker.” He joked. “You’d look really ugly with a broken nose.”

Jungkook, finished his sandwich. “It’d improve your personality.” He said, earning him a friendly slap on the thigh from the older member.

Taehyung turned to Jin. “Maybe you should speak to him.”

Jin raised his eyebrows. “Me? Why?”

Jungkook shrugged. “You’re the oldest?”

 

**PART FIVE**

_A day later..._

Jin was surprised to see Yoongi when he entered the bedroom. The younger member was standing by his chest of draws, unpacking a small suitcase of clothes and packing them into the dresser. Jin took this to be a good sign but didn’t want to get too optimistic. Yoongi turned as he heard the door open.

“Hi.” He said.

Jin took a step into the room and closed the door behind him. “I thought you were staying at your apartment.”

Yoongi nodded. “I was. I needed to speak to Hoseok and he managed to convince me to stay for the time being.” He finished unpacking the last of his underwear and closed the draw closed.

Jin sighed. “Have you spoken to Namjoon yet?”

Yoongi looked at him with both an expression of guilt and embarrassment. He knew that Hoseok wouldn’t have meant to be malicious in telling somebody about what had happened, his best friend was incredibly loose-lipped at times, but that didn’t stop him from feeling that it was an incredibly private moment. He shook his head. “Not yet.” He sat down on the edge of his bed and Jin echoed his movements with his own.

“I heard something happened...” Jin explained.

“Do you know why?” Yoongi asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

Jin shook his head. “Not really. Did you hit him?”

Yoongi sighed and looked down at his white sneakers. “No. Almost.”

Jin nodded, not surprised that Jimin’s version of events were a little exaggerated from the truth but also feeling relieved. Perhaps the situation between Yoongi and Namjoon could be rectified after all. There was a moment of silence before Jin spoke next. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?”

“I didn’t hide it.” The younger member sounded sad but also as though he were trying to justify his actions to himself as well. “Nobody asked.”

Jin sighed and ran his hands through his brown hair. “I wish you’d have said something.”

Yoongi nodded. “Me too.” There was a pause. “But it’s over now.” His voice was tinged with regret and it made Jin’s chest ache for him. He continued staring at his white shoes.

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.” He met Jin’s gaze for a moment before turning back to the floor.

“How long?”

“A year.”

So that confirmed it. “What was her name?” He asked, wanting to put a name to the face he had seen before a couple of times.

“Jeong-sun.”

“Oh.” Jin stood up and walked over to Yoongi slowly. He put his hand on his shoulder firmly. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

Yoongi didn’t look up but didn’t flinch at the contact either. “Me too...”

Jin nodded, squeezing down gently, before walking towards the door. “I’ll sleep in Jungkook’s room tonight.”

Yoongi looked up. “Why?”

“I thought you might like a bit of space.” He turned back to look at him.

“I don’t mind.”

The older member grasped the door knob. “I think it’s best if you think things over. I’ll be next door if you need me.” He twisted the handle. “I think you should tell Namjoon what you just told me.”

Yoongi nodded as Jin opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He didn’t think that Namjoon was home tonight but that was okay. He knew where his apartment was and he would go around just as soon as he had said hello to the other members, not having seen them for several weeks.

He stood up and walked down the hall and into the kitchen where he could hear a bickering conversation between Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook. The others would probably never know what had happened between him and Jeong-sun entirely, and that was okay, Yoongi thought. Some things were best kept to yourself and only mused over in the small hours of the morning, when the traffic was too noisy and outside and he could not sleep. He could never explain to anyone how much he had loved her and what they had experienced together. She had texted him a couple of times since the previous week. Once asking him if she had left a spare set of uniform at his apartment and another time asking him for his address so she could send him back his spare key.

He had replied quickly, without bitterness, and they had exchanged parcels. It had hurt to write her name on the brown package and he had to stop his hand from trembling as he did so. But he had managed and it was getting easier to stop his disappointment whenever his phone chimed and the message wasn’t from her. Besides, they had a new album to work on.


End file.
